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Kou knows that his defiance against Teru within the school will make him feel insecure about their relationship the minute he arrives home and has time to process what happened. It’s easier to preempt his worries, rushing through shopping and gathering everything he needs for dinner (curry, because it’s Teru’s favorite), trying his best to beat him home. Teru's requested this act enough times that it's almost become habit; Kou can no longer remember what prompted them to fall into it. Hopefully today it will be something that Teru finds welcome instead of upsetting.
The perishables are tossed into the fridge as quickly as possible; he doesn't even take the time to close the door before rushing to the entryway, arriving just as it creaks shut. He tucks his legs underneath himself, folding his hands in his lap and keeping his eyes trained on the floor as he kneels to await Teru’s arrival. Tiara’s staying the night at a friend's house, something he’s grateful for: it makes it so much easier to reassure Teru he still belongs to him.
There’s an old trail of blood staining the floor, right in the middle of his field of vision. No matter how many times he looks away, his gaze keeps straying back to it, probably because it’s the only thing that stands out against the grain of the wood. That night, Teru had been out late for an exorcism again, leaving Kou to fret and worry as he paced through the house awaiting his return. When he stumbled through the door, trying to hide the severity of his injuries, the sight of the gashes covering his body had Kou rushing for the bandages, trying to staunch the blood trickling down his body before anything else could happen.
His panic had him herding Teru into the bathroom with the easy to clean tile floors as soon as the hasty first-aid had finished, so that he could try to bandage them more cleanly, and more fully assess Teru’s well-being. He’d meant to check for bloodstains that might have been left behind, but he’d been pulled into Teru’s arms, chin resting on his head, and when Teru asked him to stay, all the protests he wanted to make fell away under the slight pleading edge to his voice.
The next morning, no matter how he scrubbed at the floor or what chemicals he tried, the stains refused to fully fade away. Looking at them now, a reminder of what Teru suffers to protect the town, has residual guilt swirling through his stomach. Was it really right to save a murderer? How will he live with himself if Hanako goes on a rampage against the students, knowing he could’ve prevented it?
He’s not sure how much time passes, thoughts consumed by the anxiety starting to gnaw at him with each minute Teru fails to appear and the way his knees begin to ache slightly against the hardwood floor. If only he had had the foresight to set a pillow or blanket down; then again, Teru prefers it when he doesn’t use one. The pain he suffers is part of showing how obedient he is.
The door swings open finally, letting in a gust of air thick with the heat of spring, exacerbating the warmth already swirling through his body. He doesn't move, hands clenching tighter as Teru’s shoes enter his view, finally drawing Kou’s attention away from the stain. The steps pause before him as the door quietly closes, sneakers caked with dirt from countless trips to school looming before Kou. He swallows before he leans forward, bowing his head a little lower and carefully untangling the knot of Teru’s laces.
When his brother feels the tongue loosen without the laces to restrain it, he lifts his foot slightly; Kou hooks a finger into the back of the shoe, hoping he doesn’t pinch Teru, and slides it off, cupping Teru’s foot in his hands.
Despite Kou’s best efforts while folding the laundry, the elastic in their socks always ends up stretching far wider than it should be, resulting in them sliding down around their feet throughout the day. Teru never bothers to fix his, claiming it doesn’t bother him and that he’s too distracted to remember. Right now, the sock only manages to cover about half his foot, and Kou has no idea how the feeling of it bunching inside his shoe doesn’t bother Teru throughout the entire day.
It’s not a thought worth his time; caring for Teru is more important. Kou presses a kiss against Teru’s skin just above the hem, chin rubbing slightly against the worn fabric, before shifting back and carefully tugging the sock back into place. He lets go of his foot slowly, not wanting to seem eager to be done, and lets it settle back on the ground before he repeats the ritual with the other.
Teru doesn’t react at all to him finishing, just brushes his hand against his shoulder as he heads for the staircase towards his room. It’s obvious enough what he wants, though. Kou waits a beat, to make sure he’ll be the one following Teru, before trying to get up. He’s been kneeling for so long that it’s hard to walk from the pins and needles shooting through his body. Despite the pain as his legs start to wake up once more, he limps after Teru as he bounds up the stairs as best he can; it wouldn’t do to keep him waiting.
Once they’re inside his room though, Kou realizes he has no idea of what Teru is hoping for him to perform. Teru doesn’t like it when he has to directly state what he wants, and Kou is desperate to please him, but the expectation Teru has for him isn’t quite clear. He stands there for a moment, trying not to let his unease show. The chair squeaks as Teru shifts slightly, writing never ceasing as his legs slide a little further apart. His hint is clear, and Kou almost hits his head on the desk in his scramble to slide underneath it before Teru can get impatient.
He just barely fits between Teru’s legs, forced to kneel once more. The desk is so short the top of his head brushes against the underside, and he has to bow further than expected to fit within the cramped space. Fumbling for Teru’s zipper, he hurries to pull it open before he earns a scolding for how slow he’s being. Teru shifts forward slowly inch by inch, until he’s on the edge of his chair, making it easy for Kou to lean in further and wrap his lips around the tip of Teru’s cock. He scoots closer until his nose bumps against rough fabric, trying to take him as deeply as he can. Without thinking, his head lolls to the side, resting against Teru’s thigh; his jeans feel scratchy against his cheek.
Even soft, the weight is welcome against his tongue, but this is something that Teru finds attractive more than Kou. He’s never really liked having Teru’s cock in his mouth like this; Teru doesn't permit him to do anything but sit here, because he says the extra stimulation will distract him from his work. Today is about proving his submissiveness though, so the discomfort is a small price to pay.
One of Teru’s hands slips under the desk and starts to card through his hair even as the scratching of pen against paper continues. The feeling is so comforting that his eyes start to slip closed as he nods off.
Hopefully Teru won’t start absentmindedly bouncing his leg again while he thinks through how to solve his calculus homework; the first and only time it happened, Kou hadn’t been able to lift his head fast enough, and the way it moved in time with each bounce of his thigh had been too arousing for Teru’s liking, even if Kou had managed to correct his mistake relatively quickly. He’d been so unhappy with Kou’s failure to follow instructions and he doesn’t want to disappoint Teru like that again, especially since this task is meant to be easy to complete.
It’s expected that he’s aware enough to anticipate any requests Teru might have, but there’s no rule that forces him to fully pay attention to what’s happening, so he drifts somewhere between wakefulness and dreaming, waiting for the next order.
“Kou.” The fact that Teru wants to request something of him so soon has Kou jolting, almost slamming his head against the desk; normally he tries to keep him between his legs for as long as he can possibly manage. Maybe he'd lost track of time?
Despite having anticipated Teru would break the silence at some point, the tone of his voice, commanding with none of the tenderness he normally directs towards Kou, has him scrambling to pay attention almost as much as his timing, chasing away the vestiges of drowsiness lingering in his mind. His eyes fly open immediately, sitting up as best as he can manage in the limited space as he awaits Teru’s next words. Teru’s fingers tighten a little in his hair before relaxing. “Why don’t you start dinner? I’ll join you in the kitchen in a few minutes.”
Kou acquiesces, tucking him back into his jeans before sliding out from under the desk. Teru tousles his hair distractedly before he leaves, and the gentle affection is all Kou can focus on for a few seconds, only barely remembering to shut the door behind him. If the sounds of Kou cooking reach Teru’s room while he’s trying to focus, it might prevent him from finishing his work.
Teru’s probably not expecting anything more than Kou making dinner, and doing something that doesn’t match those plans has his stomach tying itself into knots. His anxiety doesn’t stop him from taking the detour to his room, letting his clothes thump gently onto the floor, until the only thing he’s in is his underwear. The aprons are normally kept in the kitchen, but he’d squirreled one into his room in anticipation.
When he tries it on, the way the fabric drapes around him and emphasizes his chest makes him feel exposed enough that he almost backs out. He fiddles with the strap and the ties idly, but the way it wraps and squishes his breasts feels constricting as he tries to adjust the size, forcing him to settle for loosening it just a bit. Maybe it’ll provide Teru with a good view.
He’s unwilling to remove his boxers; the rush of cold air against his skin as he tries has him jerking them back up immediately. Something about losing them just makes him feel too vulnerable. Hopefully him going above and beyond like this will please Teru enough even if he can’t fully commit.
Slicing the vegetables is easy, a repetition honed with practice. Knowing that it’s something only he’s capable of, that in this one niche Teru could never hope to compare, makes his chest swell with pride. Teru wants to learn, saying Kou deserves breaks too, but even something as simple as chopping an onion stymies him no matter how many times Kou patiently instructs him. He’s normally so agile with his sword that Kou secretly thinks that despite his proclaimed desire to learn, he chooses to remain incapable, so that they can’t ever be separated. Then again, Kou can’t wield an exorcist blade; maybe Teru really can’t transfer his skills into the kitchen.
The sizzling of the onion in the pan is accompanied by Teru’s footsteps padding down the stairs. Kou stiffens, focusing on watching his cooking to make sure nothing burns. The kitchen chair creaks behind him as Teru settles into it to watch him.
“You know I don’t like when you leave things half-done, Kou.” His shoulders slump even as he acknowledges Teru’s implicit command, and his fingers hook into the waistband of his boxers once more, slowly dragging them down. Teru says he enjoys a gradual reveal, and Kou tries his best to please.
It feels like slowly ripping off a bandaid, anxiety not ceasing until he finishes the task. Cold air circulates through the kitchen, and breezes against him with every inch of skin he exposes; it's offset only by the heat radiating from the stovetop, minimizing his discomfort. The fabric thumps gently against the floor, and despite how he had resisted stripping earlier, he finds a strange comfort in the feeling now.
"Good boy." Teru's voice is thick with satisfaction as he praises him; at least he's not disappointed with Kou yet. The old chair creaks behind him periodically as he moves through the steps of the recipe on autopilot, probably from Teru trying to maintain a good view. Teru's eyes seem to pierce through him, a feeling that intensifies whenever Kou’s position is perpendicular to his. As much as Teru likes seeing his naked back, the movement of his breasts as he bends over the sink and tries to stretch for spices seems to please him even more.
Finally, dinner is done simmering. When Kou tastes it, it’s delicious even compared to his usual fare. He carefully scoops rice onto half the plate, ladling curry to fill the remaining empty space. When he carries it to Teru, intending to leave it on the table and serve himself, Teru pats at his lap instead, encouraging Kou to straddle him. Guilt rushes through Kou at not having anticipated Teru’s needs.
He holds the plate between them, trying to scoop up an equal amount of rice and curry before lifting the spoon to Teru’s mouth. Despite knowing he should lower his eyes out of respect, Kou finds it difficult to realize where he needs to position the spoon without seeing Teru’s face. Glancing up just slightly without moving his head, he sits up a little higher so he doesn't have to stretch as far and guides it in his mouth, letting him swallow before repeating the action.
Teru’s hand idly rubs at his back, dipping lower, and squeezing at Kou’s hip. The feeling makes Kou shiver, hand shaking with the effort required to keep feeding Teru. His brother takes his time to swallow each bite now, forcing Kou to slow down the rate at which he serves Teru, the movement of his arm comparable to a snail's crawl.
When the plate is about half empty, Teru’s hand shifts again, wandering underneath the apron until his warm, large fingers reach their goal; they occasionally stroke at Kou’s labia or almost slide inside his cunt, at moments seemingly meant to catch him off guard, but Teru never follows through. It’s barely any stimulation but it still sends little waves of heat rushing through him, making it even harder to focus on feeding Teru. All he can do is try his hardest to ignore the minute trembling of his body and continue with the task.
He half expects Teru to try something else as the amount of food left dwindles. Usually around this time Teru likes to rub at Kou’s clit or slip his fingers fully inside Kou to tease him further, enjoying the way the movements of Kou's hand stutter as Teru leaves him gasping and trying not to rock against his hand. In spite of his worries, Teru’s fingers never stop their lazy strokes, and Kou could almost sob with relief at how easy he’s making it for him to comply with his expectations. Teru likes to see his limits sometimes, how far he can push Kou before his obedience falters, and he’d been expecting something like that today after his defiance, especially since Kou's the one who initiated as a way to show his apology. It eases a small part of the stress twisting his stomach to know Teru is willing to take mercy on him today.
When Teru finally finishes clearing his plate, he lets Kou slide out of his embrace–it’s his turn to eat dinner. Teru never lets Kou in his lap while he eats, claiming Kou is too messy, that he’s certain to stain his clothes. Eyeing the wooden kitchen chairs and painfully aware of his boxers discarded on the floor, Kou opts to remain standing.
Teru isn’t usually interested in watching Kou eat, but today his eyes fix on the movement of Kou’s hand, and the way he swallows; anything that Kou does seems to draw his eye. The intense scrutiny has Kou hesitating. Normally Teru only looks at him like this in the bedroom and the increased focus intensifies the subtle heat rushing through his body.
He’s not given time to ponder it. As he finishes his plate, the sun is already setting outside, and Teru sighs, tilting his head at Kou to follow. He’s much less enthusiastic as he walks up the stairs this time, steps slow and plodding like he's trying to delay the inevitable. Teru’s eagerness and skill while exorcising supernaturals had been a large part of what made Kou idolize him, but he finds himself incapable of seeing him the same way now that he understands the emotions were just a facade for his benefit. It kind of makes him feel a little empty to know it was all a lie, that exorcists aren’t the optimistic and kind heroes he’d always believed them to be.
Kou makes a beeline for the closet as soon as they arrive in Teru’s room, picking out the yukata in the best condition for Teru tonight. They’re likely only fighting weak supernaturals; some of the less skilled exorcists are coming along to try to emulate Teru, so it's only logical he appears his best. Teru stands near his bed, arms crossed, waiting for Kou to begin.
Recently Teru's learned how to tie his own tie, choosing a complicated knot for how elegant it looked. It makes Kou’s job harder now–he’s still figuring out where to pull to let it unravel. Despite the initial confusion, he manages to loosen it until it falls apart to the floor and quickly sets to work on the buttons.
In some ways dressing and undressing Teru feels more intimate than when he’s underneath him. The way his fingers graze against Teru’s skin, and how he has to ask permission to remove Teru's shirt represent a casual kind of domesticity that they don't often get to practice, and the novelty pleases him. Teru lifts his arms, letting Kou slide his shirt off and bare his chest.
Removing Teru’s pants is when his subservience is most clear, at least in Kou’s mind. He kneels before Teru for the third time that night, unbuckling his belt and pulling it out, one loop at a time. It’s placed carefully on the floor, folded among Teru's other discarded clothes, and Kou returns his attention to Teru.
As the zipper is pulled down, the metallic sound of the teeth separating echoes throughout the quiet room, and it sends a vague sense of sadness rolling through him; this moment is almost over. He carefully hooks his thumbs into the sides of the jeans and tugs them down. As he guides his brother to step out of them, the only thing on his mind is a desperate hope he doesn’t notice the way Kou’s hands brush against his skin a little more than strictly necessary; he’s not supposed to be chasing contact Teru isn’t willing to provide, especially when he’s trying to prove he can be perfectly obedient at home despite their disagreement at school.
The last item of clothing gently falls against the floor, and Kou returns to the yukata he’d carefully laid out, wrapping it around Teru and guiding his hands to hold it in place. It’s easier to tie the sash while standing, but that would make them seem too close to equals; he sinks to his knees again instead, carefully arranging the fabric into a bow, before lowering his head to focus on the carpeted floor.
As always, Teru barely acknowledges him, the sound of the scabbard rubbing against the wall as he grabs his sword quickly followed by his footsteps thumping down the stairs. In just his apron, Kou isn’t allowed to follow; Teru would be too upset if anyone else saw him.
Once, Kou had tried to trip down the stairs after him, sure it’s what Teru was expecting, only to find his brother surrounded by a group of exorcists. The anger written all over Teru’s face as he barked for Kou to go back to his room, coupled with the debilitating shame he’d felt at his failure to realize others had appeared in the house aren’t emotions he’s eager to deal with again.
The door to Teru’s room is left cracked open, enough that Kou can just make out the sound of the lock on the front door turning, and the murmuring of Teru with the other exorcists. Loneliness spikes through him at the reminder of his exclusion. He wishes he knew what they were saying, that he could be included too, but it’s easier to stay here and not risk Teru’s wrath.
The entire house shakes as the front door slams shut, and Kou is finally free to slip out of the role of being subject to Teru’s every whim and focus on himself. This is the only moment he’s allowed to clean the dishes and complete his homework before school tomorrow. It should all be doable before Teru returns, as long as Kou can manage to stay awake. When he falls asleep before the exorcists finish their work, Teru has a tendency to spend the whole next day sulking, and Kou’s been trying so hard to reassure him that a setback like that would devastate him; he doesn't want to destroy all the progress he’s been making.
Tonight, Teru returns home even later than usual; Kou's nodding off on the couch as he awaits his arrival. He jerks fully awake as soon as he hears the key turning in the lock, rushing to the door to help with his shoes and check him for injuries. Despite his best efforts, he’s too slow; by the time he arrives, Teru’s already kicked off his shoes and there’s not a single wound to be seen. It leaves Kou a little lost. How is he supposed to be subservient if Teru won’t permit him? Has he upset him in some way? Teru shoves past him, the scent of his sweat and blood just barely perceptible as he plods up the stairs.
There’s not much else Kou can do but wait for Teru to finish his shower. Unsure if his actions throughout the day have actually convinced Teru that Kou still belongs to him, there’s only one other thing he can think to try.
It’s easy to sneak into Teru’s room again; it’s never once been locked against him. Deciding whether or not to strip is a far harder choice. Teru likes the anticipation of slowly removing his clothes himself, but he might be too tired to want to deal with it. He settles on the safe side, dressed only in his pajama shirt and boxers, to leave the decision open.
Ideally, he would already have his fingers inside himself by the time Teru returns, but it should be up to Teru whether he wants to have Kou or not, and he can't help but think such a gesture might be too assertive. His uncertainty renders him incapable of following through on the idea; instead, he sits in the middle of the bed, and waits for the running shower water to come to a halt.
Teru’s toweling off his hair when he returns, and the exhaustion in his eyes doesn’t stop him from flashing Kou a kind smile. It’s the most affection he’s shown all day, finally acknowledging his efforts to be perfectly subservient for him. When he slides into bed, pulling Kou against him and tucking his head under his chin, Kou feels like he can relax at last as the eggshells he’d been walking on all day finally vanish.
He’s a little glad Teru didn’t want sex–his eyes are already threatening to slip closed just from being pressed against the warmth of his chest, comfortably wrapped in Teru’s arms. It takes everything he has to try to stay awake, in case Teru has anything he wants to say, but he remains silent, and eventually Kou can no longer resist the waves of sleep threatening to drown him.
The last thing he’s conscious of before he passes out is Teru whispering a thank you, so quietly Kou thinks he imagined it, and brushing his lips against his hair. He tries to curve his mouth into a smile in response but his muscles won’t respond anymore; his eyes close, and the world goes dark.